Glitter Among Gems
by werewolfvampirelove
Summary: This is actually based on some of my collector's Barbies that gave me an idea, the Royal Jewels collection and one of the Barbie Basics dolls, but I'm sure if you're a Barbie/Barbie movie fan you can appreciate it. Four royal sisters discover they have a half-sister as a result of their father's affair, and the painful process to become a new family begins.
1. Chapter 1- Kate

My name is Katherine Leonora Giles. You can call me Kate. My mother's name is Sandra Giles. I'm seventeen years old. My mother is just an ordinary, yet extraordinary waitress, struggling to get by, and doing a hell of a job. But you probably know of my mother as the king's mistress, and me as their scandalous lovechild. That's true, but that's probably as much as you know about any of this. What lies beneath is everything I thought we were, and everything we're about to become. The thing is, now that it's been discovered that I am the king's fifth and youngest daughter, regardless of who my mother is, I am now another rightful heir to the throne.

What the hell?

My seventeenth birthday started out just like any other. I woke up to my alarm screaming at me at 6:30 AM. Mom was already gone working third shift at Ferdy's (the owner's name is Ferdinand, okay?). I knew she wouldn't get home until 8:00, when school starts each day. I stuffed my books and binders into my backpack, threw on my boho style clothes that apparently made everybody at school want to know how to dress like me. Evidently people thought I dressed like this on purpose, carefully planning the look to appear breezy and carefree, instead of it being because I just didn't care, slapped on the nearest thing in my closet, and pulled it off by sheer luck. I was the artsy one with good taste. The truth is, I just picked things that yes, I liked, and yes, weren't hideous, but I just felt were comfortable and well, me. I always supposed that was why the look worked so well, but honestly, fashion just wasn't my area of interest. I liked books and cooking.

Classes were just like any other, too- advanced classes, a clear path to college, and all good marks. No. Excellent marks. Doing well in school was pretty much my life. I went to classes, excelled, came home, read, and when I had free time I hung out with my best friend, Gina. My mom and I had a very close relationship, but she had to work a lot. I was relieved that she had varying schedules, so I knew that there were days she'd be home during the afternoons when I got out of school. I know this was not as great for her. She didn't have a consistent sleep schedule, and hated working weird hours when she had third shift hours. It's not that I liked that she had such a crazy work schedule, or that she often had to pick up available hours to make more money. I didn't like that she had no health insurance through work and had to pay for her own plan. I didn't like that her highest aspirations for herself had been given up on years ago for a waitressing job just to make ends meet to care for me. I just liked that there were days that I could _see_ her. It just seemed as though she'd given up on herself years ago so that she could never give up on me. It's as though it hadn't occurred to her that she could still care about herself. That part broke my heart. I had always hoped that perhaps once I moved out, got a degree, and became self-sufficient, that she'd finally give herself a little room to breathe, and to have goals, dreams, and interests again.

Though my mom had worked the graveyard shift this time, I would not see her this afternoon. I had an interview for an internship of a political nature in the city, so I'd be taking the bus after school to get there. My interview was at 4:00, and school got out at 2:30, so I had some time to take a look around and maybe grab a coffee before changing into my nicer clothes and going to my interview. Though I would not know this at the time that I met her, this would be the afternoon that I met the youngest of my four older half-siblings, Lucy. After perusing the travel section at my favorite used book store in the city, Secondhand Nature, I settled on a few books about Paris, made my purchase, and headed over to Cappuccino's Off To You for a Macchiato to thumb through a few pages one of my travel books. Quite honestly, the prospect of travelling to Paris began to depress me, as I knew that would not be an option for quite a while. I'd be lucky to make it into college with under 60 grand in debt by the time I graduated at the end of four years. I put the book away into my bag dejectedly, and pulled out the cookbook I'd purchased recently in order to discover some new recipes I could try for me and Mom. Okay, fine. I planned to cook every single one of them. Like I said, cooking was my other interest, second only to books, and as it happened, politics. This is why I was interviewing for the internship in our local ambassador's office. That was when she came up to me.

"Hey there," the most bubbly blonde you could ever meet greeted me, her blue eyes earnest, friendly, and warm.

"Hi," I said, only slightly unnerved, because of the stark resemblance she seemed to bear to me, and because I wasn't used to strangers wanting to have anything to do with me that looked like wealthy, first-class citizens. I noticed that she seemed to be taken aback herself, but only for a moment. Then she recovered.

"I hate to be a pest, but I noticed the cook book you've been pouring over. I'm a bit of a cooking fanatic myself, and I was just wondering where you got this particular book? I've been making more Polish dishes as of late, and I'd love to see what kind of recipes are in this one."

"Oh, no problem," I acquiesced. "This book's got some great ones, and absolutely fattening, which means you _know_ they're good," I added with a wicked grin. She grinned back. "I actually just bought it online, but if you wanted to write down the author and title, I think I have a slip of paper in my bag."

"That's perfect, and all I need, really. And by the way, the fattening recipes are absolutely the best. It's too bad we won't have our youthful metabolisms forever."

"Seriously. All of the best food is the stuff that you should cut back on," I lamented. I handed her a blank piece of paper and a pen, and she copied the book's information down in the neatest script I'd ever seen, including the ISBN, which caught my attention.

"You never know when that might come in handy," she said, raising her eyes at the ISBN.

"Let me guess," I ventured, "you're a book nerd too?" I smiled.

"I am!" she grinned again.

"Say no more. You must be my spirit animal," I laughed.

"Hah! I think all of us book lovers are connected by some weird spirit thing. Although the fact that you're into cooking too makes me like you even more!" She paused. "I'm Lucy, by the way. I'm on my way out, but we should hang out sometime. I have a hard time relating to most girls, especially the ones that are all about blush and eye shadow. I have a hard time relating to most girls. In fact, I never really have any friends to hang out with. It's mostly me and my three older sisters. It's a real drag sometimes. I'm nineteen, but I feel so sheltered."

"Sure, that would be great, actually. I do have one best friend, Anna, but she's the only girl I can relate to myself. I don't even have sisters, I kind of wish I did sometimes. Or a brother even."

"Ah, trust me, having siblings isn't all it's cracked up to be," she vented. "My sisters all have their own neurotic tendencies. They drive me crazy. I wish I were an only child. Or that I could have another sibling that maybe I related to, at least. Not that I don't love them," she added hurriedly.

"Well, having someone to relate to is important, for sure. So then, you live with your older sisters? Is that because you're all in college together or something?"

I should have noticed how quickly she panicked and then came up with an answer in that moment, but it didn't really hit me until I found out who _I_ am later on.

"Oh, well, yeah, I'm going to college, and the next oldest is, and the two older are in grad school, but, ah, I mean we're not all just spoiled rich kids, ya know? Like, money is tight, and we all work, so it just cuts back on expenses. We just figured it's easier this way with the four of us. And at least if we have any roommate disagreements, they're also sisterly disagreements, so you'd expect us to fight. It's just easier. And the older ones, it's not that they just never grew up or became self-sufficient. They have obligations and things, and they're responsible and follow through on obligations they have."

"Oh, that's cool. I mean there's nothing wrong with living with your sisters at all. I was just curious as to what brought the four of you to living together if they drive you crazy," I laughed.

"Oh right." She smiled sheepishly, visibly relaxing. "Duh. Yeah, we'll just leave it at economic reasons."

"Got it."

"Anyway, here's my number," she said quickly, writing it in her perfect calligraphy again, and tearing off half of the paper I gave her for the cook book information. "I really would enjoy hanging out sometime."

"Likewise. Here's mine, too," I said, writing down mine on her half with the ISBN. "It was nice to meet you, Lucy."

"It was nice to meet you too…"

"Sorry! Kate."

"Kate." She smiled. As she was beginning to leave, she turned back to me. "Hey Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"I didn't mean to make it sound like I don't love my sisters. I do love them. And I can understand that you're lonelier being an only child. For all the ways that my sisters irritate me, we're a loyal bunch and do get along well most of the time."

"Oh, I figured. That's what all siblings will say about each other. We all just need a break and a good friend sometimes. Glad to be your break." I winked.

She smiled, nodded, and walked out of the coffee shop. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement to have made a new friend. There was something almost sisterly about her, as odd as that felt. Perhaps it was because we had just talked about her three sisters, and I had none.


	2. Chapter 2- Lucy

My name is Lucy Cecilia Rhodes. I am the youngest daughter to the king. Or so I thought. I was the first of the four of us to meet our younger half-sister, Kate. Given that she's my half-sister, and given that it means my father, the king, had an affair, and given that his royalty means that on top of betraying our family, her birth would bring on shame and scandal to our family, that I'd hate her. On the complete contrary, she had won me over long before I even knew she was my sister. Maybe the fact that I'd met her first by accident, and found out later who she was, and the fact that she didn't know either, helped. The truth of the matter is, she's wonderful, and none of this was her fault.

I had met her one uneventful afternoon going in and out of my favorite coffee shop. She was the first really smart person I'd met in a long time who was also humble and easy to talk to. She didn't expect me to be a dignitary. She didn't expect me to be of complete good social graces, though I would never be flat out rude, either. She didn't expect me to be wearing the perfect outfit for whatever the occasion was. She wasn't even entirely thrown that a complete stranger had introduced themself to her, and asked moments later to be friends over a few shared interests. I sensed that she was a bit thrown by how similar we looked, as I was, but that's just because it was so striking to me, and so likely it was to her as well. Until I knew she was my sister, I was the only one of me and my sisters with blonde hair. We do not have the same mother; I do know for certain that my mother is my mother. There were no royal cover-ups with forged documents and elaborate family lies. Regardless, the blonde hair made the similarities in our faces more striking. It's true that I do look more like our father, and clearly Kate does, too. My older sisters all have varying degrees of darker hair. The third oldest, Adeline, has fawn brown hair with some natural streaks of blonde highlights mixed in. The second oldest, Eve, has subtly auburn hair, though more brown than red. The oldest, Corinne, has dark hair, almost too dark to be considered brown, but not quite black. My mother has chocolate brown hair, so the mixes of red must come from somewhere in her familial line, as both of my father's parents had blonde hair as well, as did he.

I felt almost as though I was looking into a mirror looking at my younger sister when I met her, though I knew nothing of our relation at the time, and though we have different mothers. As I practically ran out of the coffee shop, in a hurry, all I could really think of was that I'd for certain blown my cover this time. I wasn't really supposed to leave the palace without protection to mingle anonymously among the public without protection. The problem with that is, then everyone will quite likely figure out who I am, when accompanied like that. It's not that people don't know what my sisters and I and my parents look like, but they're less likely to be looking if we're out in commoner's clothes and we're not announcing ourselves, I've noticed. But the risk I take is that the observant few will notice of course, and possibly will be of less savory motives. Even if their motives are pure, and that it's nothing more than wanting to meet me, it's a scene apparently the family cannot afford, ever. That's more or less Father's exact reasoning, but yet I still go out like this against his wishes. When I feel like just a regular person, I feel less pressure, and I feel like I can meet people who just want to know me for me. Plus I don't feel like I'm suffocating from my three older sisters' antics.

On this particular day, I felt like I'd made a true blue friend, and I was just a normal girl, which at times feels better than being one of four princesses. I knew I couldn't be out long without my absence being noticed, though, and so I was in a rush to get home and slip back in. Luckily there were no political functions to attend tonight, and I could just retreat to my room and tend to my studies. I hadn't completely lied to Kat when I met her. I was attending college, just under heavy protection, as were my sisters. I did live with my four sisters, just not under tight money in an apartment, as I'd left her to draw conclusions to, but in the royal family's palace, and with my parents as well as my sisters. I would like to believe, though I was born into great wealth, that I wasn't a spoiled rich girl. I worked hard to make sure I deserved the privilege I was born into. I excelled in school, behaved well in private as well as public, and didn't go out and party or cause the family scandals. I smiled and curtsied and bowed on cue, danced the traditional dances with grace and sophistication, and made polite conversation with those important to my father's image and position in society.

I even accepted my fate of having an arranged marriage to a man I didn't know all that well, but had grown quite fond of upon introduction and the occasional family dinner with- and I mean his family and mine as our parents discussed the terms and details of the marriage, and the entire process of arranging it, while we waited in a separate room and attempted small talk. Much to our luck, this had developed into a very fond friendship that we both felt could lead to more by the time we were married, and at the very least, a very pleasant and amicable marriage that would not be completely void of joy or warmth. This was a man whose company I would certainly enjoy, and who had confided as much in me. We were optimistic that our relationship was progressing much the way it would have had we met and courted on our own terms, and so we chose to ignore the fact that it had been facilitated by our parents, given how fortunate we were to be such a compatible match. Essentially, I did everything that was expected of me and even made the best of it, and therefore did not feel I was out of line to seek a small bit of freedom to enjoy being free among my people for a few hours now and then. I took it as a chance to both enjoy my freedom and observe and learn about the people my father and mother served.

Two weeks passed, and I was feeling cooped up again, and ready to burst at the seams, and so I snuck back out into the open public, with unassuming clothing, sunglasses over my eyes, and a freedom that came especially with summers in the city with the common public. To me, there was nothing common about them. They were anything but ordinary. Everyone, though I may not know what it was, contained a story. At least in the moments I was out and about, I got a small sliver of that story from people watching. Everyone had their habits, and their interests, and their people that they belonged to. They had their pets, and their favorites, and their jobs, and their dislikes, and their disagreements, and their chit-chat. To me, this was anything but ordinary. This was beautiful. This was something to be understood, and preserved. My family was too busy at times, though they were charitable and gracious and loving of their people, to understand what it was their duty to protect in the first place. We had policies to protect the order, safety, health, and more, of these extraordinary people so that they could go about doing the beautiful, and the not so beautiful, things that made them so dear to me. Their so-called ordinary and common moments were those that I hungered to experience more of myself, and were what made the important so important.

As I was planning to slip out unnoticed that morning, however, thinking of calling my new friend, my mother heard me in the hall and stopped me, asking me to come into her office. I instantly became nervous, and then unnerved completely when I saw all three of my sisters in there with her. All four of them looked distraught. My mother motioned to me to come to her desk.

"Oh my love, this isn't easy for me to talk to you about, because I know how sensitive you can be at times, but- _Oh boy, here it comes. She knows, and I'm in trouble. I'm going to have to defend myself. It's just a few hours now and then!_ "-you need to look at this picture. See that girl?"

I almost choked. They've got photo documentation? How did they know I was hanging out with Kate? Wait. I had only met her for a few short minutes. And that's not what she was wearing when I met her. I think. My heart was racing, but I decided to play it cool. This was odd. Maybe they'd been tracking her after she and I met.

"Yes, Mother."

My mother buried her face in her hand, as though keeping a rather high level of stress at bay, as she often did. "Lucy, this is so hard. Seventeen years ago, your father had an affair."

"I'm not following. This girl looks very young, what does she have to do with Father? And wait, Father had an affair? Two years after I was born?" _Oh God. Oh GOD! Wait._

And just like that, I put together the pieces. This girl in the picture, my new friend Kat, is a young woman. And she must be seventeen. And she must be my…

"So this girl, she's-"

"Your half-sister, my love." My mother's eyes, I noticed for the first time, were red-rimmed, and brimming with fresh tears. "The woman your father had an affair with gave birth to a baby girl, and this is her. It's striking, really, how much she looks like you; like… your father. Her name is Katherine."

"WHY DIDN'T SHE TELL ME?" I shouted, incredulous. "Er, you. You. Why didn't she tell you? Or Father? Or why didn't her mother? That's what I meant." My head was spinning. Why didn't Father tell us? That was what I wanted to know most. No, what I wanted to know most was why we weren't enough. I was two years old! Feeling myself beginning to shake and lose my footing, I felt my oldest sister Corinne's arms steadying mine. As always, she and my mother, though clearly feeling emotional, were the family's two rocks. I noticed now, for the first time as well, that angry tears were streaming uncontrollably down my cheeks.

"Well, dear, that's just it. I'm afraid this poor girl hasn't the slightest idea. In fact, she still doesn't know. Her mother had suspected two potential fathers. After seventeen years, she decided she wanted to know, at the very least for a full medical history to provide for her daughter, and so she had a paternity test taken. The date can be proven; it was done recently, not at birth. When it was discovered-" her voice caught "-that it was your father, and God only knows how she and your father covered this affair up, she demanded that this information reach your father. The two of them have been in contact ever since, I don't know how long now, discussing when and how, or even if, Katherine should come to know who her father is. Technically, your father's rights, especially as the king, and her rights as a fifth rightful heir to the king, supersede her mother's rights to keep this hidden from Katherine. Only your father and I can choose to keep this hidden. I was just informed today, and of course your father couldn't even reveal this to me face to face, and had one of his assistants tell me.

"I haven't agreed to anything yet. I haven't any idea what I want him to do. I don't know how I feel about another woman's daughter having any rights to this kingdom as the four of you do. I don't know how I feel about my marriage being, in part, a lie for the past seventeen years. And I don't know how I feel about this poor girl being without a father for seventeen years, and then having her entire image of who he might be shattered and uplifted at the same time. I don't even know about her character, or if she'd care about anything but money once discovering who he is. I also don't know if I trust her mother's motives. I mean why wait until she's seventeen?"

I stared silently, thoughtfully.

"Well, dear? Please say something," my mother pleaded.

I looked up at her, resigned. I didn't know Kat all that well, but I had gotten a good sense of who she was by talking to her the day we met. She was earnest and sweet. She read books and cooked. She'd gone her entire life without a father, and now her life was probably about to be turned upside down. She wasn't some kind of criminal just looking for a way to steal money, and she wouldn't look for her father just for money. She probably had a plethora of the same painful questions my sisters and I now had.

"Honestly, Mother, I don't know her mother, so I can't say what her motives are, although it would seem right that she would find out who her daughter's father is, no matter how long she's waited. As far as the girl is concerned, I'm lead to believe that Kat- Katherine- would want to know about her father. She's still a relatively young girl. I can't imagine having the questions she likely did for an entire seventeen years." I sighed. This was about to become the most painful and complicated friendship ever. Here I had been moments from inviting her to getting coffee and hanging out for the second time. Next time I would see her, it would be because we're sisters. I hoped she wouldn't think I'd facilitated the day we'd met to see for myself who my mysterious and scandalous half-sister was. I'd had no idea either, and we'd both have had the wind knocked out of us once she knew. Depending on her reaction, our friendship might actually be over before it even began.

My mother nodded, weighing my opinion carefully and thoughtfully. "That's what Adeline, Eve, and Corinne all said, too."

Adeline, and even Eve feeling the same as me on a matter like this wasn't so surprising, but Corinne? She was the practical one on political, social, and family matters. She would be more likely than even Mother to avoid a royal scandal, especially as first in line, and actually heir to the throne. It's not that she was immoral, and it's not that she didn't side on the side of right. It was simply a matter of her preferring to keep any wrongs that would cause the family disgrace private. This would certainly cause Father disgrace, and the five of us would be expected to answer the public's countless questions, and our emotions would be aired much like dirty laundry through the media. This was why her opinion surprised me more than those of my other sisters.

"I'm deeply hurt by Father's choice seventeen years ago," Corinne began, clearly sensing my confusion and perhaps reading it on my face, "but I agree completely that she, once knowing that she shares a father with us, will have many of the same questions we do, as well as many unique to her side of the situation. Father never even knew about her, or considered to question if he might have another child out there. She must wonder why he never chose her or her mother. The fact of the matter is, whoever the mother is, we have another sister."

Corinne had attempted to keep her voice flat and matter of fact, but I knew just how deeply she was hurting inside. She was the oldest, and she was also the closest of the four of us to Father. I would venture to say that his betrayal to Mother didn't go even as deep as his betrayal to Corinne. She would have been eight when this happened. I questioned what made those two years I was alive insignificant enough for him to run off to a woman other than my mother, and to leave his four children; she had another six years on me that she must have questioned what they were worth to him as well.

Evidently, my little excursions to the heart of the city alone were the least of anyone's concerns, and would indeed go unnoticed. I, and my entire family, was about to face a concern far more damaging than any I could have imagined we'd discuss today when I was just steps outside Mother's office. I couldn't help but notice as I excused myself, that my phone had buzzed, indicating that I had a text message. It was from Kat.

_Hey! I haven't heard from you since we met two weeks ago. I hope it isn't weird if I still want to hang out. I was thinking we could grab a coffee this afternoon after I get out of school. I have a little bit of time before my internship at the embassy. We met just before my interview, lol. Anyway, text me back!_

So badly, I wanted to text her back and just go back to being normal in the city for a few hours. Instead, I found myself closing out the text, and putting my iPhone back in my pocket. It didn't seem like the right thing to pretend to be her friend, only her friend, knowing now that I was her half-sister. If she were devastated by the news she would receive soon, she might hate me for knowing and not telling her. It would be better if the first time she saw me again was after receiving the news, so that at least I hadn't been pretending everything was fine, all the while knowing both of our lives had been turned upside down.

_Oh by the way, this is Kate in case you didn't add me in your phone. My internship is only a few hours after school during the week. I have weekends free, too, if that's better for you. I know you're already in college and probably busier than me. Xo_

A/N: Just so you know which Barbies the characters are, since I couldn't fit this into the little description box:

Kat- Barbie Basics doll, the one with the jeans and the silver top

Lucy: Duchess of Diamonds

Adeline: Countess of Rubies

Eve: Empress of Emeralds

Corinne: Queen of Sapphires


End file.
